by Betty Neels
‘That dinner—will you come out tonight?’
She ignored her galloping pulse rate. ‘Thank you, I should like that—that is if it doesn’t interfere with—with anything.’ By anything she had meant Lilith and perhaps he had guessed that, for he said easily:
‘Why should it? About eight o’clock at the hotel, I think, don’t you?’ His smile held faint mockery. ‘Leave it to me, Tabby.’
The weather still held, and at breakfast it was decided that they should sail down the canal to Middelburg and Vlissingen and then round the coast and so back to the Veerse Meer from the west. In the excitement of planning this trip there was very little opportunity for much discussion about the previous evening’s escapade, or the dinner party. What questions were asked Tabitha left Marius to answer, which he did with a casual good humour which robbed it of all drama, at the same time including her in the conversation with such adroitness that she seemed to be taking a far greater part in the talk than she actually was. As for the dinner party, the Raynards and Mr Bow had enjoyed themselves; the hotel was praised, as was the delicious food, and if rather less was said about their hostess and her daughter, no one saw fit to comment upon it. This led, naturally enough, to Marius observing that perhaps they wouldn’t mind too much if he took Tabitha out to dinner that evening, a remark which earned the company’s wholehearted approbation, and when Hans, who seemed to know everything going on in the house, came in with the post, remarking that if they were going out that evening they had better make a start on their day’s outing or they wouldn’t be back in time, everyone made haste to get down to the yacht.
Tabitha, helping Mr Bow as he slowly negotiated the cobbles, couldn’t fail to see how much better the old man looked. He had become quite brown, so that his white whiskers looked even whiter and he looked ten years younger, despite the crutches. Bill Raynard too had been revitalized to an astonishing extent. The thought of him returning to St Martin’s in a few weeks’ time filled Tabitha with unease—he had always been twice as energetic as anyone else; now it looked as though he would be doubling his operation lists and filling the beds faster than she could ever hope to get them made up; he was already beginning to talk with enthusiasm of what he intended to do as soon as he got back to work. She switched her thoughts away from the hospital; time enough to worry about her work when they got back. She heaved a sigh and choked on it when Mr Bow observed gently: ‘No sighing today, Tabitha—sighing is wasted breath.’
The day was a success; if it hadn’t been for the fact that she was going out to dinner with Marius that evening, Tabitha would have wished it to last for ever. As it was, she felt her heart leap with excitement as they neared Veere, an excitement doused by the expectation of seeing Lilith or her stepmother on the quayside, but there was no sign of either of them—it seemed as though the day was going to end as perfectly as it had begun.
They strolled up to the Campveerse Toren just before eight o’clock and went up the curving staircase to the restaurant overlooking the water. They had a table in one of the windows and watched the boats coming in for the night while they drank their aperitifs and talked over their day. They were still talking about Chidlake and Veere now as they ate ratatouille, which Tabitha had never heard of, followed by roast duckling stuffed with prunes, and finally a dessert of fresh pineapple filled with a delicious concoction of almonds and bananas and whipped cream, lavishly awash with rum, and because Marius said it was a celebration, although he declined to say of what, they drank champagne.
It was while they were sitting over their coffee that Marius said:
‘Only a week left—how time flies when one is content.’ He gave her a keen glance. ‘You are content, Tabitha?’
Tabitha filled their coffee cups for a second time. ‘Yes, very— I’m happy too.’ Her pretty voice was warm with feeling, for she was happy, or almost; as happy as she would ever be with Lilith, smiling and triumphant, reminding her of a happiness she herself was never likely to have—but she had now, and she had had the whole day with him too. She said slowly:
‘St Martin’s seems like a dream. I can’t imagine myself going back there, making out diet sheets and putting up extensions,’ she sighed, and then, for fear he should pity her, said brightly: ‘But everyone feels like that after a holiday, don’t they? Besides, there’s still another week.’ She looked out to the dark blue water of the lake. ‘Do you think this gorgeous weather will last?’
It was a red herring which he ignored, and that was a pity because she found it so much easier to talk about things and not themselves.
Marius said blandly: ‘You won’t be putting up extensions for the rest of your life, you know.’
She deliberately misunderstood him. ‘Oh, but I couldn’t do much else. I’ve worked on Orthopaedics for several years and I’m hopelessly out of the running with Medical or Surgery—I might manage theatre, I suppose.’
His voice was still bland. ‘Ah, yes, when the pretty Sue gets married.’
Which remark, Tabitha thought crossly, he could have better left unsaid. She saw herself in the successive years ahead, taking over from the pretty girls who got married. To rid herself of the unpleasant prospect she said vigorously: ‘I shall stay on in Men’s Orthopaedic,’ and then, not sure that he would choose to answer: ‘What are you going to do, Marius?’
Apparently he hadn’t minded her question. ‘Bill won’t be able to do a full day’s work for a couple of weeks after we get back. I shall stay a couple of weeks—less, perhaps—then I have a short lecture tour and—er—affairs of my own to settle.’
Tabitha, made reckless by a little too much champagne, opened her mouth to enquire what affairs, but before she could utter he said smoothly:
‘No, don’t ask, Tabby,’ and was about to say more when he looked across the room and saw Lilith and Mrs Crawley and said instead: ‘Here are your family. Shall we ask them over for one last drink before we go?’
Tabitha gave him an empty stare. She said dully: ‘Yes, of course, it would complete the evening, wouldn’t it? You should have invited them for dinner,’ and Marius, his eyebrows lifted at her sudden rudeness, said silkily: ‘Yes, perhaps I should.’
It was half an hour before they got up to go and even then on the way down the staircase Marius paused, and with a brief murmured excuse went back up again, to reappear after a couple of minutes. Tabitha, studying his face, thought that behind his placid good looks there was quiet satisfaction. They walked back to the house, making conversation while Tabitha thought her own thoughts, knowing that he was thinking his too, and she fancied they were triumphant ones. She said her thank yous and good nights in the hall and went to her room where she went at once to the window without putting on the light. As she had known, with a certainty as strong as though he had told her himself, Marius had already left the house again and was walking briskly back to the hotel.
She slept late the next morning because she hadn’t slept very much during the night. She got downstairs just as everyone was sitting down to breakfast and because of her unusual lateness had to put up with a good deal of mild teasing, which she answered in a lighthearted manner wholly at variance with her shadowed eyes, elaborating upon her evening out and even declaiming at some length on the pleasure of meeting Lilith and Mrs Crawley. It was only when she caught Marius’s thoughtful eyes upon her that she realized that she was being far too talkative.
They spent the day sailing and in the afternoon the weather became overcast, and then suddenly the sky became pitch black and the storm broke over their heads. Tabitha, who didn’t like thunder and was frightened of lightning, was surprised to discover that neither bothered her overmuch because everyone else in the party appeared to be enjoying themselves immensely, especially Marius, sitting at the tiller, singing some song about ‘Piet Hein’. The worst of the storm had blown over as they approached Veere; the sky was blue again and the sun shone once more. The little town looked delightful with its quaint roof tops glistening with the recent r
ain, and everything looked fresh and green.
They made their way through the crowded little harbour to their berth, past Jan’s boat, but there was no sign of Lilith on board, nor was she by the harbour. Tabitha heaved a sigh of relief as she crossed the road with Mr Bow and Marius and went into the house. There was a note on the side table in the hall. Tabitha saw that it was in Lilith’s handwriting as Marius picked it up and without reading it, put it in his pocket and led everyone into the sitting room where there was an instant and lighthearted discussion as to how they should amuse themselves that evening, which the two girls cut short with the positive assertion that they refused to discuss anything until they had bathed and changed.
Half an hour later Tabitha was on her way downstairs again, her hair piled in its coils and rolls, and wearing a blue and white patterned dress and flat-heeled blue sandals on her feet. She made no noise at all on the stairs and none on the thickpiled hall carpet. The door of the sitting room was half open, as she neared it she couldn’t fail to hear Marius say, his voice urgent:
‘Knotty, there’s only one thing for it, you’ll have to feel ill—just ill enough to stay home. If I know Tabby she’ll insist on staying with you. Bill and Muriel can come with me and dine on their own, that will leave me free to dine with Lilith—I’ll persuade her to get Mrs Crawley to join us afterwards—if only the woman would make up her mind where she wants to live. I must talk to them, Knotty, they’re going in two days. Their coming in the first place has made things a great deal easier, but I must have my answer before they leave. And Tabitha is not to know. You agree to that too, don’t you, Bill?’
Tabitha heard Mr Raynard’s growling reply as she made her way back to her room. Once there she went to the mirror and stared into it, surprised to see that she looked just the same as she had done before she had gone downstairs. She was a little pale perhaps, but she could always plead a headache after the storm. She went on staring at her reflection, no longer seeing it, conscious only of the pain somewhere deep inside her because Marius, who had wanted to be her friend, was making a mockery of friendship. What was it he didn’t want her to know, and why had he told Mr Bow and Bill Raynard? Did he think her such a fool that she was incapable of seeing for herself that he and Lilith…? She turned away from the mirror. It would have given her a great deal of satisfaction to have gone downstairs and flung open the sitting room door in a dramatic fashion and told him exactly what she thought of him, but on second thoughts she rejected the idea, she wasn’t dramatic for a start and she had not the slightest idea what to say. She said out loud: ‘Listeners never hear any good of themselves,’ and Muriel who had just knocked on the door came in wanting to know why she was talking to herself. They went down together to join the men and Muriel asked at once: ‘Well, what have you decided to do with the evening?’
Marius was pouring sherry into his beautiful glasses. He said unhurriedly: ‘How about all of us going up to De Campveerse Toren for a meal?’ Which was so exactly what Tabitha had been expecting that she nodded her head slightly and looked across to Mr Bow, for he would be the one to answer. She wasn’t disappointed, for he said at once:
‘What a splendid idea, Marius, dear boy, but I feel a little under the weather—the storm, you know. If I could be helped to bed, I shall be able to manage very well.’
Tabitha picked up her cue; since they were acting, she might as well make a success of her role. ‘I’ll stay with you, Mr Bow, I don’t mind a bit, because I’ve a headache myself.’ She looked round the circle of faces, her smile the bright professional one she wore on the ward to hide her real feelings, although she was unaware of that, but Marius saw it and said sharply: ‘No—’ and then stopped, giving her the chance to ask:
‘Why ever not? I came to look after the two invalids, if you remember. So far I’ve done nothing at all.’ Which wasn’t quite true, but sounded right. As though everyone had agreed with her she said to Mr Bow:
‘You shall go to bed, Mr Bow, with a nice supper tray, and later on I’ll give you one of your sleeping pills.’
She smiled round the room again, nicely in control of her feelings and rather proud of the way she had risen to the occasion, and Muriel who of course knew nothing about it made it easier by saying: ‘Well, if you’ve got a headache, Tabby…though it won’t be such fun without you. You don’t mind if we go with Marius?’
‘Not a bit,’ said Tabitha heartily, and saw Marius eyeing her with speculation and puzzlement though he smiled as he remarked gently: ‘You don’t seem too upset, Tabby.’
Perhaps she had been a shade too hearty. She smiled directly at him, although it was an effort. ‘There will be other evenings, I expect. Of course I’m sorry I shan’t be coming, but I wouldn’t be much of an asset with a headache, would I?’
They went half an hour later, Muriel a little doubtful at leaving her, but Bill Raynard said nothing and nor did Marius, although he wished them a cheerful good night and advised Tabitha to take something for her headache. At the door he turned round to suggest that she went to bed early—advice she ignored, for once Mr Bow had been settled with his book, his spectacles and his glass of water within reach, she wandered down to the sitting room again and sat in Marius’s great chair, leafing through a pile of magazines. Hans was in the kitchen and the house was quiet. She had had her own dinner while Mr Bow partook of a few suitable dainties on a tray and there was nothing to do except flip through Vogue, her mind on the dinner party at the hotel; it didn’t bear thinking about. She got up and prowled up and down the lovely room and finally went upstairs to see how Mr Bow fared. Since he was supposed to be feeling ill, she might as well treat him as though he were.
He was sitting up in bed, with a book open before him, not reading it but staring in front of him. He gave her a piercing look as she approached the bed and pronounced: ‘I am deep in thought, young lady.’
‘Pleasant ones, I hope,’ observed Tabitha. ‘Is there anything you want?’
He answered her absently: ‘No—no, what should I need?’ and glanced at his old-fashioned watch on the bedside table. ‘I had imagined that you would have gone to bed with that headache of yours—was it a very bad one?’ His blue eyes looked very innocent.
Tabitha could look innocent too. ‘No worse than your sudden indisposition, Mr Bow. I daresay we’re both feeling better, aren’t we?’ She smiled at him. ‘Now I’m going to bed. Good night and sleep well.’
But she didn’t undress immediately, nor did she turn on the light as she went to sit in the chair by the window. She had only been there a few minutes when Hans, accompanied by Smith, went out. She watched them walk stolidly down to the end of the harbour and then back again, with frequent pauses for Hans to greet acquaintances on the way, and still more pauses for Smith to do the same. Ten minutes after they had entered the house again Tabitha saw the Raynards returning from the hotel. Bill Raynard was managing very well with his heavy stick and his wife’s supporting arm—at the rate he was going he would be back at work in a couple of weeks’ time. There was no sign of Marius; she undressed slowly, lingered over her bath and got into bed, only to get out again and peer out of the window. There were still a number of people about, for though it was past eleven o’clock the cafés were still open and the little town’s visitors were strolling around enjoying the warm late evening. The bells had sounded midnight before she saw Marius walking back by himself. He didn’t go into the house but went to stand by the water, his hands in his pockets. Presently he went over to the Bentley, got in, and drove away, leaving Tabitha, quite bewildered, to go back to bed where she lay thinking up an incredible number of reasons for his strange behaviour, none of which made any sense.
She was down early the next morning, but Marius was earlier, standing at the open door talking to the postman. He gave her two letters from the pile in his hand and said: ‘Hullo—here are a couple for you—how’s the headache?’ He gave her a questioning smile and looked as though he really wanted to know.
‘Gone,’ she said briefly, and couldn’t resist adding: ‘Mr Bow has quite recovered too. I went to see him on my way down.’
Marius’s eyes met hers; there was a gleam in their depths, but whether it was laughter or suspicion she couldn’t tell. ‘I thought he would be,’ was all he said.
They strolled across the cobbles and sat down on the grass bordering the harbour to read their letters—a lengthy business for Marius, for he had a great number, but Tabitha’s two were quickly read—one from Meg, full of the unimportant but interesting happenings of home—the milkman’s wife had had another baby, there was a new washer needed on the bathroom tap and did Tabitha know that the rent was going up in two weeks’ time, and lastly, dear Podger was behaving beautifully and would Tabitha let that nice Mr Bow know that his pet was proving a very loving companion which she would find it difficult to part with. Tabitha smiled as she folded this missive and Marius glanced at her and asked: ‘A letter from Meg? I hope everything is all right at home?’
Tabitha opened her second letter. ‘Yes, thank you,’ she said in a voice calculated to discourage further questions, and started to read the second, longer letter from Sue. Sue had a great deal to say; the theatre was dull because there were only the cases from the women’s ward and the casualties were being sent elsewhere. The ward was almost finished—she had sneaked down after duty one day to have a look, and had Tabitha really been allowed to choose the curtains by herself and if so how had she got round Matron to let her do it; and did she know that there were two new housemen? And at the end of a further page of gossip, Sue wrote: ‘I’m getting married at Christmas. How about having a go at my job?’ At the very end of the letter there was a P.S. ‘You didn’t mention Mr van Beek—I wonder why?’
Tabitha folded that letter too. It was a little over four months to Christmas, time enough for her to make up her mind if she wanted Sue’s job or not, and time enough, too, to know more about Lilith and Marius. She frowned, and Marius, without appearing to look up from his own letters, asked: ‘Bad news?’
